


in time of daffodils, who know (the goal of living is to grow)

by amillionsmiles



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Gen, secret world of arrietty au, this was hell to finish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 05:17:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6181753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amillionsmiles/pseuds/amillionsmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was small and fierce and quick and capable and he wanted to tell her that the impossible, bright thing that was their friendship had helped him more than any medicine ever had. </p><p>// In the weeks before his heart operation, Adrien meets a girl. Ladybug&Adrien, Secret World of Arrietty AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in time of daffodils, who know (the goal of living is to grow)

**Author's Note:**

> this has been bubbling in my brain for a while now, and then the Ladrien moments in the "Jackady" episode went and pushed me off the tipping point
> 
> update: now with [fanart](http://bluemaniac359.deviantart.com/art/Secret-World-of-Ladybug-596167202) by BlueManiac359! :)

The garden was a mess.

"Oh, my," said Nathalie, the car door thudding shut as she walked to the gate. She rested one hand on the peeling wood, craning her neck to see past the encroaching foliage. "Honestly, what do the gardeners feed these plants?"

"I think it's nice," Adrien said, coming to stand beside her. Plagg squirmed in his arms, restless; the black cat hadn't taken kindly to being spirited away from the spacious halls of the Agreste mansion and shoved into the cramped confines of Nathalie's car. Adrien could tell that it was going to take more than the fresh air of this cozy countryside summerhouse to get back in Plagg's good graces.

Nathalie tested the gate; it swung open easily. A path of stones half-sunken in the grass led to the porch and the French doors. Gingerly, Adrien stepped forward, admiring the wildflowers blooming in wild abandon, their brilliant pink and red cups catching the sunlight. A bee buzzed past his ear; he twitched, startled, before following its path with his eyes. A river of ivy spilled from the terracotta roof, leading down—

Without warning, Plagg leapt out of his arms, barreling toward the right corner of the porch.

"Wait, Plagg!" cried Adrien, foot nearly catching on a root as he chased after his cat. When he got to the porch, Plagg was staring down a grate of some sort, wearing an expression somewhere between annoyance and befuddlement.

"You scratched me, you lousy cat," scolded Adrien, rubbing the pink streak that had appeared on his forearm. He crouched down, trying to see further into the grate. "What on earth—"

In the darkness, something moved. Adrien dropped to his knees, sticks digging into his palms as he pressed one eye against the grate to try and see more. A flash of red, something scurrying; it looked too small to be a field mouse, and colored too brightly, but he'd gotten only the briefest glimpse—

"Adrien." Nathalie's voice sounded above him. "You're going to get your pants dirty."

"Sorry." He got up quickly, dusting himself off. Plagg wound himself around Adrien's legs, meowing.

"You're hurt," clucked Nathalie, reaching for his arm.

"I'm fine." Adrien stepped back from her, turning his arm so that the scratch was hidden against his chest. "It was an accident—Plagg just got excited, is all."

"Honestly, I don't know why you brought that cat. He's nothing but trouble, bursting out of your arms like that. And you, running after him—you should know better, Adrien. Remember what the doctors said?"

"No unnecessary overexertion," recited Adrien. The summer heat suddenly seemed to press against his eyes, making them water; he forced himself not to bend his head. "I know."

"And you understand that your father has left me personally responsible for your care while we're here?"

"Yes, Nathalie."

"And you must understand, Adrien, that I'll look after you but you have to look after yourself, too."

"Yes, Nathalie."

Nathalie held his gaze, studying him carefully, before the lines around her eyes relaxed and she reached out, squeezing his shoulder.

"Don't look so glum," she said, the corners of her mouth lifting briefly in an attempt at cheer. "You have this whole house to yourself and the whole summer to get used to it. It'll be fun, yes?"

Adrien looked over his shoulder, at the bushes and the mottled undergrowth and the dense copse of trees, ripe for adventure.

But what was the use of all of this space when there was no one to explore it with? He dragged his shoe over the cover of the grate. He'd probably just been imagining whatever it was he'd thought he'd seen moving.

"Yeah, I guess," sighed Adrien, following Nathalie into the house.

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

It was harder for Adrien to sleep, nowadays.

It didn't help that he was in his mom's childhood room. The signs of her were everywhere: the Victorian rose wallpaper, the embroidered gold bedspread, the vanity that the housekeeper had swept free of dust before they arrived, the exquisitely crafted dollhouse in the corner.

Of all the places, his father had sent him here. Part of Adrien resented him for that, but the other part—the part that still remembered crawling into bed between his parents and falling asleep to the scent of rose petals—was grateful. Because here, under the covers, he could pretend it was like before—before the tired smiles and the scratchy hospital sheets and the knowledge that all the money in the world couldn't heal two broken hearts.

His father had managed; Adrien, meanwhile, had gotten, quite literally, heartsick. _Cardiomyopathy._ Just a fuzzy way of saying that he got too tired too often nowadays, and even when he wasn't, Nathalie and his father wouldn't let him do anything for fear of his straining himself. _Poor Gabriel Agreste,_ everyone muttered; _first his wife, now his son._ So it was fitting that, in sickness, Adrien got sent back to where they'd always spent family vacations. He was going to waste away in the house where his mom had grown up.

 _You're being overdramatic,_ chimed Adrien's internal voice. _Morbid, much?_

There was a chance the surgery was going to work, after all, which was just as well. You couldn't die from loneliness.

Adrien contemplated this while staring upward, tracking the hypnotic motion of the ceiling fan's blades.

His eyelids were beginning to droop when he felt it: a prickle at the back of his neck, like someone else was in the room. Slowly, he turned his head to the right, squinting in the dark. Bit by bit, a shape began to emerge; it looked like—

Adrien sucked in a breath.

_It looked like a girl._

Granted, a tiny one. She couldn't be taller than three or four inches; it was hard to tell, because the tissue paper covered up to her waist. Adrien frowned. What did she want with his Kleenex? The girl wasn't looking at him. It seemed like she was talking to someone else; Adrien wanted to prop himself up to see if he could get a glimpse, but he was afraid that if he moved he'd alert the miniature girl to his presence. Instead, he took the time to study her, committing her to memory: two short pigtails, pale skin, and a polka-dotted mask that covered her eyes.

His chest pinched. His heart thumped against his ribcage, strained by the lack of air. But he wasn't going to scare her away. Not if he could help it.

Just when it seemed like he couldn't hold in his breath any longer, the girl turned.

Her eyes widened. Gasping, she dropped behind the tissue, vanishing from sight.

"Wait!" All the air Adrien had been holding in exploded with his frantic plea. There was a faint thud as something dropped to the floor. He made to jump out of bed but reconsidered at the last minute, worried he'd accidentally step on…whoever she was. "I won't hurt you, I promise, just don't…"

He managed to get the bedside lamp on, fumbling in the dark. The room became washed with a warm glow. The Kleenex in the tissue box stood straight up, looking just like it had earlier that day. Like no one had touched it.

"…just don't go," Adrien finished hoarsely, staring at the bedside table devoid of anything save the tissue box and the lamp. He wished the housekeeper hadn't dusted; maybe then the girl would have left footprints. How easily things got wiped away. Poof, gone. A little bit of dust. A mother. A life.

Resigned, he reached for the cord a second time. As Adrien leaned over, however, his gaze fell on the carpet.

His heartbeat sped up.

 _It's really—I'm not dreaming._ He pushed aside the covers and got out of bed, bending down to pick up the waxy white and yellow shape sitting on the carpet. His blood rushed loudly in his ears; his heartbeat raced wildly. In the back of his mind, Nathalie and the doctors cautioned, _slow down, Adrien,_ so he closed his eyes and tried to refocus his energy.

Adrien took two deep breaths— _in, out, in, out_ —and stared at the cheese cube in his palm.

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

Leaving the window open turned out to be the best decision of his life.

Plagg was curled up in Adrien's lap, purring in satisfaction, but when he stiffened and lifted his head toward the window screen, Adrien knew.

He set down his book, turning, slowly, to face the window. A single leaf from the ivy spill pressed up against the left side, and as Adrien tilted his head, he could discern, through the leaf, the silhouette of a girl, her shadow brought into relief by the high noon sun.

"I came to return this." Her voice rang clear, like a bell. Adrien's eyes widened as the cheese cube from last night was pushed into view on the windowsill.

"But…I left that for you."

He was proud for having made the connection between the grate and the girl. Last night he'd sat up, head spinning, before remembering the flash of red he'd seen in the garden earlier that day. It had seemed like a long shot, but that morning he had left the cheese cube on top of the grate, alongside a folded note. He'd half considered sitting next to the grate but figured that would only scare the girl away, so he'd retreated back indoors. And now here she was, again.

Adrien scrutinized the cheese cube. It was dented on one side, already melting in the summer heat, and part of it had become crusted over with dirt. Adrien felt guilty, knowing he'd put the girl through so much work, but he couldn't help admiring her. What sort of strength and determination had it taken to lug that thing back here?

"That's not how it works," said the girl. "My family—we only take things that nobody will miss. But since you noticed, it's yours, now."

Adrien pushed himself up from his pillow. "Your—your family? So there are more of you?"

A beat. Then, defiant: "Yes."

"Ah, wow." He sank back against the cushions, dizzy with the possibilities. It was just as he'd suspected—there'd been at least two little people in his room last night. A whole family! He chuckled at the thought.

"Why are you laughing?" the girl asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, it's just that…Nathalie said I'd have the house all to myself. But it turns out there's already a family living here." He smiled at the girl's shadow. "I'm glad."

"You can't tell anyone," she insisted, a hint of panic creeping in. "Or else—"

"I won't," Adrien rushed to assure her. He kept a firm grip on Plagg, who had settled somewhat, though his ears still twitched toward the window every now and then. "I—do you have a name?"

The girl seemed to struggle with his question before deciding, "You can call me Ladybug."

"Ladybug." Adrien tilted his head, wishing he could see more than her outline. "I'm Adrien."

"Adrien," tested out Ladybug carefully. Her voice softened as she asked, "Adrien, why are you in here all alone?"

"Ah, that's a story I don't really feel like telling right now," he said, scratching between Plagg's ears absentmindedly. "Let's not talk about me; I want to know about you. What's your family like? Do you have any brothers or sisters? How long have you been living here? How old are you—"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"Do I?" grinned Adrien.

Ladybug's shadow shifted; it seemed like she had decided to sit down.

"I'm fourteen, and we moved here maybe…eight years ago? I don't remember exactly. It's just Mom, Dad, and me; I don't have any siblings. What about you?"

Adrien considered the bedspread, passing a hand over its familiar pattern. "I have my dad. And Nathalie, I guess. But a lot of times…a lot of times it feels like it's just me and Plagg."

Ladybug stayed quiet for a long time.

"I'm sorry," she said eventually.

Adrien nodded. Wasn't that what everyone said? _Sorry I can't make it to Parents' Day, Adrien. Sorry I forgot your birthday present. Sorry I'm sending you away. Sorry you're sick._

"Ladybug, will you come out from behind that leaf? So I can see you?" he asked abruptly, determined to change the subject.

"I—"

"Adrien?" Two sharp knocks sounded on his door. Before he could protest, Nathalie poked her head in. "Whom are you talking to?"

A breeze blew through the open window, shaking the leaf outside slightly and lifting the curtains gently. Outside, the sky was a crisp, clear blue.

"No one," Adrien said faintly. "No one at all."

But internally, all he could think was: _Ladybug. She said to call her Ladybug._

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

Over the next few days, Adrien became a man on a mission. Ladybug didn't return to his windowsill, so he set out to find her on his own; subtly, of course—it wouldn't do to make Nathalie suspicious. But he walked through the house with renewed vigor, peeking under couches and chairs, nudging aside carpeting and eyeing the floorboards for any signs of Ladybug and her family.

That was how he found the diary.

He'd been rummaging through the drawers of his mom's vanity when he happened across it. On top of the diary sat a pair of earrings: red and black, edged with gold. Adrien slipped the studs into his chest pocket, more entranced by the diary. Gingerly, he touched the leather cover, unbuckling it carefully. The handwriting hadn't yet become the large, looping cursive his mom had always signed parental consent forms in, but Adrien could tell that it was developing into that.

"Plagg, look at this," he whispered, running a finger under the date signed at the top. "This is from when she was seventeen!"

Plagg yawned, curling up at his feet.

"All right, fine, be that way." Adrien rolled his eyes, refusing to let the excitement of his new discovery be dampened. He sat down and flipped a page. And another. And another.

An hour later found him crouched in front of dollhouse, mind racing. His mom had seen the little people, too. She'd had the dollhouse built for them, everything commissioned to work just like the real thing, except in miniature. Except the little people had never come back.

They were here now, though. Ladybug's family wasn't the same as the one his seventeen-year-old mother had discovered years ago, but they were close enough. Adrien could deliver this gift. He could honor his mother's legacy.

Tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, Adrien ran a finger along the bottom of each unit, feeling for the hidden release. His index finger brushed against something; he pressed harder, hearing a satisfying _click_ as the unit separated from the others.

Awed, Adrien held it up, inspecting it from all angles.

A fully functional kitchen! This was better than any old cheese cube; there was no way Ladybug would return _this._ Now he really had to find her.

As if sensing Adrien's plan, Plagg woke up. The cat pawed at Adrien's sock before turning and scratching at the door.

"Plagg! You're going to ruin the wood," scolded Adrien, crossing the room.

Cracking open the door, he looked down the hallway to make sure Nathalie wasn't coming any time soon. She mostly stayed in her room, keeping up with his dad's business calls. Adrien didn't really mind—"work never sleeps," and all that, plus it left him free to come and go as he pleased. Not that there was as much to do here as there was back in the city, although it seemed like that was about to change.

Plagg shoved himself through the gap between the door and its frame, meowing loudly.

"Plagg!" hissed Adrien, following close behind. He kept the kitchen unit close to his chest, careful not to damage it. "Where are you going?"

He got his answer soon enough. Cat and boy crept through the house, coming to a stop in front of the sewing room, one of the few places Adrien hadn't checked yet. Plagg, having completed his mission, posed in front of the door, green eyes blinking smugly.

"You mean you knew where they were the whole time and you never told me?" accused Adrien.

Plagg meowed.

"Ugh, fine," said Adrien, bending down to scratch Plagg between the ears. Plagg's chest rumbled in satisfaction. "Good kitty."

Resolutely, he straightened, looking once over his shoulder before he opened the door.

It smelled musty inside. Rolls of fabric sat on the shelves and dust motes floated in the air. The housekeepers hadn't bothered with this room, most likely figuring that neither Adrien nor Nathalie would venture into it.

A single Persian carpet covered the floor; Adrien peeled it back. There was a hole in one of the floorboards—Adrien peered into it before sitting back on his haunches.

"This won't do, I can't see much of anything." He looked around the room, eyes falling upon a crowbar. Plagg watched him pry open the floorboard; the noise seemed to echo through the house as Adrien pulled it up, and Adrien quickly ran to the door and locked it so that he'd have some time to put things back in order if Nathalie came looking.

When he returned, crawling on his hands and knees, he found himself staring down at a tiny woman.

She was short—smaller than Ladybug, even, with a shiny black bob and delicate features. For a second, the two of them remained still, gaping at each other.

And then the woman began screaming.

"Wait! I promise, I'm not here to hurt you. I have a present, see?" said Adrien, holding the kitchenette up so that the little woman could see. "You're Ladybug's mom, right? I—I'm Adrien! I'm here to help!"

"L-ladybug?" squeaked the woman, eyes darting around her invaded home. She raised her voice. "Tom! Tom, help!"

"No no no, don't scream, someone else might hear," Adrien said desperately. "Look, I'll just leave this here. Is this your kitchen?" he pointed to the motley assortment of miniature chairs on the mossy green flooring. "Well, now you have a new one. Isn't it pretty? My mom had it made. Everything in it works, even the stove—" he was babbling, now, hands trembling as he set down the dollhouse unit in the cool, damp space under the floorboards, transferring the tiny chairs and tables onto the checkered linoleum surface. Ladybug's mom watched the impromptu renovation, wordless and bewildered.

"I'm sorry for interrupting. I hope you like it," finished Adrien, reaching for the plank of wood he'd removed and covering up the space again so that he wouldn't have to consider what he'd done too deeply.

He sat back on his haunches, staring at his hands. _What a mess._ That hadn't gone how he'd planned at all—he'd thought he'd feel more heroic. Instead, he'd probably come across as some harbinger of destruction.

 _Cheer up, kid,_ Plagg seemed to say, bumping his head against Adrien's knee. _At least you tried._

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

"You nearly gave my mom a heart attack."

Adrien blanched at the wording, even as part of him thrilled, because—Ladybug was back.

_She came back._

He was lying in the garden, head propped up on a large slab of stone, book shading his eyes from the sun. Plagg rested on his stomach, a comforting weight.

"I'm sorry," he apologized to the sky. "I didn't mean to scare her, but I thought—I thought you might like the kitchen. Did you know that my mom had an entire dollhouse made—"

"We're leaving," burst out Ladybug. She sounded on the verge of tears. "That's what I came to tell you. That we're leaving."

"What?" Adrien shot up, heart pounding. "Why?"

"My parents—they don't think it's safe anymore. Now that you know we exist."

"But I promised I wouldn't tell! I _haven't_ told!" Desperate to make her believe him, he turned around.

The words died in his throat as he took her in.

She was so _small._ She wore a high-necked red dress and a coil of thread sat at her waist, like a rope of some sort. Her arms were crossed across her chest and two short black pigtails brushed her shoulder as she stared up at him with the fiercest, bluest eyes he'd ever seen. Most of the rest of her face was covered by the spotted mask, but Adrien knew, somehow, that it didn't matter. That he would remember this face for the rest of his life.

He closed his eyes, swallowing dryly. "I didn't tell anyone," he repeated.

When he opened his eyes again, Ladybug had relaxed her stance.

"I believe you," she said. "But that doesn't change things."

"I thought I was helping." His voice wavered; he reached up, rubbing the corner of his eyes. "I got so excited. And now it turns out that I've just gone and ruined things."

"Adrien, don't. It's not—Dad's been thinking about moving for a while. This was just the final push."

"Why do you have to go?" demanded Adrien. "I promise, I'll do everything to make sure nobody finds you. I can protect you!"

Ladybug bristled. "We don't need your protection."

"Of course you don't," Adrien said quickly. "I just meant—I could help you."

Ladybug smiled gently. "I'm sure you could."

They held each other's gaze. Slowly, Adrien eased himself down to lie on his stomach so that his eye was level with her.

"When do you leave?" he finally asked.

"I don't know yet."

"I'm going to have an operation at the end of this summer," he confided.

"For what?" blinked Ladybug.

"My heart."

Her eyes roamed over his face. "Will you be okay?"

"I don't know. But while you're still here, and while I'm here, maybe…maybe we could be friends?"

Ladybug mulled this over, her lips twisting as she thought.

"Okay," she finally decided.

And for the first time that summer, it felt like things were going right.

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

They started meeting in the garden every day. Adrien would bring a book and lie down in the grass and Ladybug would sit on the rock behind his head, listening. Sometimes she braided his hair while he talked; it tickled, feeling those few thin strands of hair as they were woven back and forth, but Ladybug was always gentle and Adrien wouldn't have minded, anyways. It was nice to have a friend.

"Ladybug?" he asked, once, acutely aware of where she sat just above his head, out of sight. "What do you like to do in your free time?"

The braiding motion paused. "I like making things," she eventually answered.

"What sorts of things?"

"Little hats. Dresses. All sorts of clothes, really."

Gently, he pulled away from her, rolling onto his stomach in the dirt and resting his chin on his hands.

"Do you ever wear any of your designs?"

Ladybug's eyes widened and she looked to the side, a faint blush dusting her cheeks under the mask. "…No."

"Why not?"

She shrugged.

"You should wear one of the things you designed tomorrow," Adrien suggested brightly. "I'm sure they're wonderful. My father's a fashion designer, you know. So I'm not totally clueless when it comes to these things."

Ladybug tapped her chin. "I'll think about it. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What do you like to do? What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"Oh." Adrien blinked. "I don't know, I've—I've never thought about it."

"Never?"

"I just…" he picked a dandelion by his elbow, rolling the stem between his fingers. He felt suddenly embarrassed by what he was about to admit. "After I got sick, I thought…why bother?"

"Adrien," Ladybug said sharply. Her tone startled him; he dropped the dandelion and looked at her. "Don't talk like that," she said, eyes flashing.

"Why not? Better to be prepared for the worst, right?"

"You can't just…give up hope."

"Holding on to hope is exhausting," said Adrien, because he _knew,_ he'd been full of it, once, filled to bursting— _your maman's going to make it, honey, you'll see—_ but nobody ever told you about the space a balloon left when it popped, the tattered shrapnel and the aching absence of air.

"Maybe," said Ladybug, crawling down the rock to squeeze his fingertip with her hands. Adrien sucked in a breath, startled at the touch. "But it's worth the fight."

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

"Ladybug, why do you wear a mask?"

"It makes me feel braver."

"I think you're already brave. You're the bravest person I've ever met."

"Really?"

"Really."

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

The tapping at his window woke him from his nap. Adrien squinted in the sunlight, patting down his hair, to see Ladybug, fists banging against the glass.

He raced to the window, pushing it up. "Ladybug, what—"

"It's my mom, Adrien," Ladybug said, the words spilling from her in a rush. "My mom, she's—she's _gone._ "

"Slow down. Could she have gotten lost?"

"No, she never leaves the house; Dad and I go on all the scavenging adventures! Adrien, what if Plagg ate her or—"

"Plagg would never," Adrien said firmly.

"Well, what about that woman staying with you?"

"Nathalie?" blinked Adrien. "She's too busy taking care of my father's errands, I doubt she'd have time to go through the house, much less dig up your mom—"

"Adrien?" As if on cue, Nathalie burst into the room; Adrien whirled around, making sure to obscure Ladybug with his body. Nathalie looked flushed, a strange mixture of frightened and triumphant. A loose piece of hair fell across her forehead, escaped from her normally perfectly coiffed bun.

Something dropped into Adrien's hands, cupped behind his back. Ladybug squeezed the tip of his pointer finger. _It's me._

"Honestly, Adrien, why do you insist on leaving your window open? You're just inviting in bugs; God knows we have enough pests in this house as it is," said Nathalie, striding across the room to yank the window back down and close the curtains.

Adrien edged away from her, making sure not to turn his back.

"We have pests, Nathalie?" he asked, polite.

Nathalie snorted. "Yes, Adrien, we have pests. As if I don't have enough to worry about, what with looking after you and helping out your father. And now I have to call the exterminator!"

"That does sound like a lot of trouble," Adrien agreed. "What sort of pests?"

"Never mind that." Nathalie's gaze swept around the room, checking that everything was in order. She stopped, walking over to the dollhouse. "What's this?"

"It was my mom's," Adrien said cautiously. A single bead of sweat gathered on his neck. What was going on?

_Why is Nathalie acting so strange?_

"Hm," said Nathalie, bending over to inspect it. "It's very detailed."

"I-Is it?" stammered Adrien, willing himself to remain calm. "I hadn't looked."

"Yes, _very_ detailed," continued Nathalie, running her fingers along the spot where Adrien had disconnected the kitchen unit. "Odd, it seems like there should be another room here." She looked up at him, her eyes suddenly hard through the lens of her glasses. "Do you have any idea what might have happened to it, Adrien?"

"Oh, I don't know, I just…assumed it was made like that."

"Is that so." Nathalie straightened, adjusting her blazer. When Adrien didn't volunteer any more information, she nodded to herself, turning around. "Sorry for the disturbance, Adrien. You can go back to whatever it is you were doing."

As soon as Nathalie closed the door behind her, Adrien exhaled in relief. He waited a couple more minutes to be safe before bringing the hand holding Ladybug out from behind his back.

"Did you hear all that?" hissed Ladybug. "Nathalie has my mom! She thinks we're pests! She's calling the exterminator!"

"I know," Adrien said glumly, collapsing onto the chair in front of the vanity. He raised his hand to deposit Ladybug on his shoulder, watching in the mirror as she clambered up to grip the collar of his white over-shirt. "What are we going to do now?"

Ladybug met his eyes in the mirror, her chin set.

"Now," she said, "we find out where she's keeping her."

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

Sneaking around proved difficult now that Nathalie was on to him. He passed her pacing in the living room, talking on the phone; Ladybug's breath was warm against his neck as she gasped, hiding herself behind the curls at the nape of his neck. They tried Nathalie's room first, but it was bare, save for a few pantsuits hanging in the closet and the laptop charging on her desk.

"What about the kitchen?" suggested Ladybug.

"But I pass through the kitchen all the time," said Adrien. "Why would she hide your mom there?"

"Sometimes the best hiding places are in plain sight," pointed out Ladybug. "It can't hurt."

So he went to the kitchen. The glass case that housed all the fine china caught his reflection, and for a moment, Adrien was transported back in time— _careful, mon coeur, that he doesn't break that plate—_

— _Oh, Gabriel, don't worry, our Adrien is gentle, see? Aren't you, mon cherie?_

"Adrien?" Ladybug tugged on his hair, grounding him. "Can you check the cabinets?"

"Ah, yes, of course," blinked Adrien, starting with the drawers on the kitchen island. He opened every cabinet and drawer he could find, peering into their depths.

Finally, they got to one that wouldn't open.

"I think this is it," said Adrien, staring at the locked cabinet. "Nathalie must have put your mom in here."

Ladybug groaned. "How are we going to get the key?"

"Leave that to me," said Adrien, clenching his fists. "I can't pick the lock right now, though. We'll have to wait until it's dark."

"That's fine. Can you put me down here?"

He did as he was told. Ladybug brushed down her red dress, looking up at him. "I'm going back to my dad, to tell him what we've found. I'll meet you back here—when would be a good time?"

"Nathalie normally does a little bit more work after dinner before going to bed, so how about midnight?"

"Midnight it is, then," agreed Ladybug, unwinding the thread from her hip. Adrien watched her, curious to see how she was going to rappel down from the counter.

"What?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at him. "Think I can't handle myself?"

"I think you're amazing," Adrien said honestly.

Ladybug clicked her tongue, shaking her head and smiling. "See you in a few hours."

"See you in a few hours," Adrien echoed, backing away.

"And Adrien?" she called as he turned; Adrien almost fell over from how fast he swiveled around again. "Thank you. For everything."

She was small and fierce and quick and capable and he wanted to tell her that the impossible, bright thing that was their friendship had helped him more than any medicine ever had.

Instead, he simply smiled.

"Anything for you, my lady."

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

"Ladybug?" Adrien whispered, tiptoeing through the kitchen.

"Over here," a voice called faintly.

Ladybug was perched on the paper towel roll, waiting. Adrien slipped the bobby pin from his pocket, bringing it up to the lock.

A _click_ and the job was finished; he opened the cabinet quietly, peering inside.

"Do you see her?"

The gleam of a mason jar in the moonlight caught his eye; Adrien's heart fell. "Yes, but—Nathalie put her on the tallest shelf. I can't reach her." He looked around the kitchen, but there weren't any stools. How had Nathalie gotten the jar up there in the first place? Maybe he could drag in a chair from the dining room, but that was bound to make too much noise and would be hard to explain if he got caught—

Ladybug tugged on his shirt. "I can reach her; just put me as close to her as you can. Besides, I need you to do something else for me."

"I'm listening." Adrien scooped Ladybug up and put her in the cabinet.

"My dad's already packed everything; my mom and I are going to meet him as soon as we get out of this. But we—I need you to go back to our house and destroy everything that's left. _Destroy_ it, understand? There can't be any evidence that we ever lived here."

Adrien swallowed. "Okay."

"Good. Now leave the cabinet open a crack so we can get out, and when you're done destroying the evidence you can come back here, make sure we're gone, and then lock the cabinet back up so Nathalie never knows."

"Got it," said Adrien, "now—"

The lights of the kitchen flared on. Adrien gasped and shut the cabinet, trying to mask its faint thud with a loud cough. He ducked out of sight, pretending to fumble for something on the floor as he put the mangled bobby pin he'd used to pick the lock away.

"Adrien?" Nathalie said, narrowing her eyes. "What are you doing in here?"

"Oh, I—I'm…" he stood back up and tried to seem drowsy and disoriented. "I got hungry, so I thought I'd get a snack."

Nathalie's eyes darted over his shoulder, to the cabinet. Adrien's fingernails dug into his palm. _Whatever you do, don't let her check the cabinet. You need to buy Ladybug time to get her mom._

"Food is in the pantry, Adrien, not over the sink," she said, crossing to the pantry to make her point.

"My mistake," Adrien laughed, making a show of rubbing his eyes and yawning. "I got mixed up in the dark."

"Right." Nathalie gave him a hard look. "Well? What did you want to eat?"

"O-oh! Um, anything, really," said Adrien. His thoughts churned. They were at an impasse, he and Nathalie—she couldn't check the cabinet with him in the room, but he couldn't open the cabinet to let Ladybug and her mom escape, either. He would have to wait it out.

"A-actually, on second thought, I was wondering…could—could you make me some tea?"

Nathalie blinked. "I haven't made you tea since…"

 _Since five months ago_ , when his father had first announced that Adrien would be spending the summer before his operation in the countryside. Adrien had been outraged and miserable; he'd felt like he'd basically been sentenced to solitary confinement. Nathalie, unsure how to deal with her charge's mood, had made him a cup of tea and sat with him in silence. And despite how small and how awkward the offering had been, it had made Adrien feel better.

"I know. But—your tea always makes me feel better," said Adrien.

"All right," obliged Nathalie, filling a kettle and turning on the stove.

They waited in silence for the kettle to whistle; when it did, Nathalie poured him a hot cup, squeezing in some honey as she passed it to him. Adrien set his hands around it, staring down at the amber liquid.

"Nathalie," he finally said. "Do you think my father's distancing himself from me because he's afraid I'm going to die?"

Nathalie's lips parted in a silent _o_ , taken aback. "Of course not, Adrien. Your father's just very busy, these days."

"He wasn't too busy for my mom."

"Adrien…"

"You know, we spent so much time in the hospital," continued Adrien, tilting his head back. His voice thickened. "And yet, the strangest thing is that I didn't mind all that much. I think I was even happy, because…because at least we were all together."

"Adrien. I don't…I don't know what goes on in your father's head, these days. But I _do_ know that he's going to be with you for the operation. I know that he loves you very much."

Nathalie looked like she believed what she was saying. But she also looked uncomfortable.

Which was what Adrien had wanted, after all.

"Thanks, Nathalie," he said, giving her a watery smile. "I really appreciate everything you've done for me—everything you do. But I just…is it okay if you leave me alone, for a little? I need some time to just…think about things."

"O-of course," said Nathalie. "Take all the time you need. The kettle's there if you need more tea. We can talk in the morning if you'd like, okay?"

"Okay."

Nathalie gave him a small smile, squeezing his shoulder. "Just don't stay up too late."

"I won't," he promised.

When Nathalie had left, Adrien took a small, shuddering breath. His chest pinched; a single _plop_ sounded as something dropped into his teacup. Reaching up, Adrien wiped away at his cheek. Composing himself, he turned and reopened the cabinet.

Ladybug stood before him, her mom's arm slung over the back of her shoulders. She looked up at him, and in her eyes Adrien saw sorrow and sympathy and silent understanding.

"Is your mom okay?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Ladybug stepped onto it, pulling her mom with her. "Yes. Are you?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "I'm going to be just fine."

He set them down on the counter, reaching up to lock the cabinet once more. When he glanced down, he found Ladybug staring up at him worriedly.

"You'll take care of yourself, won't you?" she asked.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" teased Adrien, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean it, Adrien."

"I will," he promised. "Now, I have one job left to do. So wish me luck."

"Good luck, Adrien," said Ladybug, her voice sliding into his heart like a lullaby. "And good bye."

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

In the sewing room, Adrien pulled up the board once more. He stared down at the trinkets and shiny baubles tucked amidst an orderly explosion of flowers and leaves, nestled up against the dollhouse unit he'd gifted what seemed like ages ago.

And then, holding his breath, he reached in and scattered everything. The manmade items he pocketed—everything else, he tossed aside, so that when he looked down into the empty space under the floorboards, it was just a haphazard mess of sticks and stones.

How easily things got wiped away.

Poof, gone.

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

A tail tickled his nose; Adrien woke up, spitting out a mouthful of cat hair.

"Argh, Plagg!" he cried. The clock on the bedside table read 6:00 AM. Adrien couldn't remember much beyond falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Plagg leapt down from the bed, pacing in front of the doorway.

"I'm coming," said Adrien, swinging his legs out from the covers and pulling on some socks.

He padded down the hallway, frowning when Plagg circled insistently around his shoes.

"Plagg, I'm not going outside at this hour."

The cat tilted its head toward the door.

"Okay, fine," Adrien grumbled, sliding on his shoes and stepping out onto the porch.

The early morning air filled his lungs with freshness, and Adrien fought the urge to look over at the rock where he and Ladybug had spent so much time. She wouldn't be there, after all—she was off making her own path through the world, family in tow.

"Hey, Plagg!" the black cat streaked across the garden, leaping over the fence in a surprising burst of energy that Adrien had witnessed few times in his life. He jogged over to the gate, opening it in time to see Plagg taking off down the path they'd driven to get to the house.

Plagg wasn't stopping. Gritting his teeth, Adrien chased after him; that stupid cat was probably going to end up run over if Adrien didn't catch him in time. The grass crunched dryly underfoot as he ran, his breaths coming in short bursts. Up ahead, the forest line began to thin, and then suddenly it had opened up to his right and he was running alongside a stream, the sound of rushing water masking the rushing in his ears.

And that was when he knew.

Up ahead, on the posts that marked the border between path and stream so that unobservant children wouldn't trespass. A flash of red. Two black pigtails in the wind.

That stupid cat. Adrien reached up, wiping away at invisible tears.

"Ladybug!" he shouted, not caring about the tightness in his chest. "Wait!"

She turned. Two other figures turned with her—her mom and her dad. _A family,_ Adrien thought happily.

"Adrien!" she cried, and then he was in front of her, bent double, heart hammering against his chest. "Your—your heart—"

"It's okay," panted Adrien. "I feel…okay."

And it was true. He felt better than he ever had, despite how much it hurt. He was going to survive this. He knew it with a sudden surety, just as he knew that he was going to survive his upcoming operation. He was going to live.

Behind Ladybug, her parents exchanged a look. Ladybug stepped forward.

"You didn't have to push yourself so hard," she said, eyes welling up. "You've already done so much."

Adrien shook his head. "I didn't get to say goodbye." He patted his chest pocket, reaching into its depths. "Here."

Ladybug stared down at his palm.

"Adrien, I—I can't."

"They were my mom's," said Adrien, admiring the way the earrings looked in the silvery light. "I want you to have them. You could use them for one of your designs. Maybe as part of hat, or a dress, or…I'm sure you'll think of something."

"I...thank you, Adrien," managed Ladybug, slipping the earrings into the bag slung across her chest.

"I'm never going to forget you, you know," Adrien said confidently. "You're in my heart, now. It's stronger because of you."

Ladybug's laugh was watery. "Silly boy. You're giving me too much credit."

"I'm not. Ladyb—"

"Marinette," Ladybug blurted. "My name is Marinette."

Slowly, she reached up to peel off her mask, dropping it in the center of his palm.

It was so small. Little more than a sticker.

But Adrien knew he would treasure it forever, the same way he would treasure the memory of this girl, with her pale freckled face and her tearstained cheeks and a smile that made his chest fill like a balloon.

"Marinette," he said, the syllables crisp on the tip of his tongue. "Ladybug. Marinette. Thank you for being my friend."

Marinette touched his pointer finger, squeezing it with both of her hands, and pressed a kiss to its tip.

"Thank _you_ , Adrien."


End file.
